Almost too quick for anyone other than Clint, with his heightened senses, to pick up, Bruce’s eyes flickered towards the camera and for a brief frightening moment, Clint could pretend that they made genuine eye contact. Shivers crawled up his spine. He touched the screen before he realised he’s doing it, a magnetic irresistible pull. Clint felt a gentle hum of anxiety, an emphatic curl of panic in his gut.

“Who are you, huh?” Clint asked. “Who are you?”

-The Room Where the Unloved Go by the fabulous elenafishers